Confessions of a Preteen Narnian
by bsc9999
Summary: A 12-year-old girl named Heather somehow ends up...where? That's right, folks, of course. She's in Narnia. And who is that strange boy? Where is he from? And why does he talk so weird?
1. Where am I?

**Author's note: Hey, I'm bsc9999 and I'm back for another story. The first chapter is actually written by my close friend, Anna, otherwise known as narnic12. She has an extreme obsession of the Chronicles of Narnia. This first chapter is written by her. She didn't want to complete it, as she thought Heather was becoming too clichéd, so I decided to take it over, as clichéd girls are my specialty. So, here goes!**

Confessions of a Preteen Narnian 

Chapter One: Where am I?

"So, do you want to race back home?" I asked my best friend, Molly Storlen.

"Oh, why not?" She replied as she started to speed in front of me.

"No one said 'go' yet!"

"It's too late now!" She yelled back, laughing.

"Alright, then!" I started to run as fast as I could. I finally caught up to her.

"By Jove! Heather, you're fast!" She told me as we sped down the trail.

"Well, after three years of racing you it's hard not to be-" Then a branch flew into my face and I lost my balance on the narrow trail. I started to tumble down the hill that the trail was perched on. I landed at the bottom of the hill. _Well, I _feel_ alright._ Those were what seemed to be my last clear thoughts before I moved my arm out from under me to get myself up. When I did, it felt like someone had just stabbed my wrist. I screamed in pain. I heard the faint voice of Molly yelling "Heather! Heather, are you alright? I'm coming!" Then everything around me slowly started to fade into black.

I woke up about ten minutes later. I expected to feel the damp, cool, dew-covered grass beneath me. But I didn't. I felt dry and rough grass, with moss growing along with it. I looked around and saw tall, green, and beautiful, flourishing trees. I got myself into a sitting position with my right arm, the one which hadn't hurt. I heard the sound of trickling water. Then I saw the water. I carefully stood up and walked over to it, trying to move my left arm as little as possible. I got a handful cupped my right hand and got some water to drink. It was cool and refreshing. After that, I started to (since I had nothing better to do) walk alongside the stream. After only a few cautious paces, I heard something. It sounded like horse steps, going _clip-clop­-clip-clop_. But then the sound stopped. I could hear a twig snapping, but not the movement of the horse. _What am I doing?! I've got to get hidden, or something. Oh, bother, they're probably going to kill me and I'll never get to talk to Molly again._ I looked around for a bush or something. Then I saw a great big boulder. _Perfect._ I ran behind it and balanced myself on my arm – my _left_ arm. I shrieked again. _Oh, gosh, this is just awful. I never dreamed this would happen._ I started to give myself the benefit of the doubt. _Perhaps the person can't hear!_ I shook my head at that one. I heard the sound of the horse again, but the footsteps were a lot quieter; like the horse was walking on grass. Then I heard a voice. A gentle, kind voice:

"Hello? Anyone there?" My heart nearly stopped beating. "It's awfully quiet. No matter. Let us be off again." A horse neighed and started to gallop in the opposite direction of me. I breathed a sigh of relief. I stoop up just in time to see the horse and its master riding off. I don't know why, but I decided to run after them. Thirty short seconds later, I stopped.

"Oh, it's no use. I'll never be able to catch up to them, nor get back to England. I don't even know where I am." I wandered back over to the boulder, sat down, and leaned against it.

I wandered back over to the boulder, sat down, and leaned against it. I surprised myself when a tear rolled down my cheek, and then another. Yet another came, and another, until I started to sob, with no intention of stopping. After about a quarter of an hour of this, I noticed the sky was turning from a deep blue to a dark black. A few minutes later, the first star started to shine.

"I never thought I would stoop so low as to wish upon some star, but I might as well. I guess I wish that…I wish that I could be home again, with Molly, having tea together and talking. I wish that this was all just a dream, and, oh! It can't possibly be a dream! My arm wouldn't have hurt like that and-" Then I heard another voice:

"My gosh! I'm never gonna be able to get outta this place! I don't even know what in the world it's called. I heard that short guy call it something, like Blarnia or something like that. Dang it, I wish I knew where I was. I can't even call someone! My cell phone must have come out of my pocket when I was running." It was a man's voice, actually, more like a boy's voice. _Should I stand up? He might not even be able to see me; it's so dark out. _I decided to take the risk. Slowly, and carefully, I set my right arm on the side of the boulder and stood up. I looked around for the boy. I saw him. He was very oddly dressed, wearing blue pants, a green shirt, and a jacket over it that said _American Eagle_, whatever that means. _Maybe it's some kind of organization_. I didn't look at him for very long because he saw me and let out a scream. Well, not a scream, more of a shout. Anyway, he let out a shout and jumped back, in the process hitting a tree.

"Ow! Oh, gosh, OUCH!" He yelled, quite dramatically. I walked a few steps closer.

"Well, it can't have hurt _that_ bad. You probably just bumped it a little. Anyways, I'm-"

"What are you doing?! Who are you? Tell me who you are! Don't hurt me!"

"My name is Heather Browling, and you jolly well don't have to get worked up it! It's not like I'm a criminal or anything."

"Well, sorry, but in the 21st century it's pretty dang hard to tell."

"Well how would you know?"

"What do you mean 'how would I know?'"

**Author's note: I decided to stop it here, because that's where my friend stopped! Well, the next chapters are going to be written by me, so Read and Review!**


	2. Who are you?

Chapter 2: Who are you?

"I mean, by Jove, it's not like you would live then," I said, laughing. "It's non-existent! The world would've ended already by then. According to my Science teacher, humans would have killed themselves off. By Jove, it's irrational."

"Why do you keep saying 'by Jove'?" the queer boy asked, which I thought was quite strange. Everyone said that. "It's so weird!" he continued. "And what's up with that accent? Are you, like, British or something?"

"Yes, I am, but I like to refer to it as 'English'." I put my hand out. "I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Heather Browling, and I'm twelve years old."

The boy took my hand and shook it. At least he knew how to do that. "I'm Spencer Greye, and I'm thirteen. Nice to meet ya." He eyed my brown knee-length skirt. "What's up with your clothes?"

"My clothes?" I looked over myself. I wore a neatly pressed white shirt, now a bit mussed. I had on some brown shoes that were neatly buckled over my clean white tights, now wrinkled and specked with dirt. My skirt was still neatly pressed as usual, though a tiny bit of grass stuck on the front, which I promptly brushed off with a casual sweep of the hand. I looked completely normal, except for a little messy. It was _he _who looked strange. "You look quite odd, yourself. What is _American Eagle_? Is it some sort of organization? Like Girl Guides?"

"Organization? Heck no! My gosh, American Eagle is a clothing company!"

"Oh. Where did you get those pants? They look uncomfortable."

"They're called jeans, and I got 'em at the mall," the boy said, running his hands through his dark hair, his blue eyes still analyzing my clothing.

"The 'mall'?" I asked, smoothing out my wrinkled clothes.

"A bunch of stores in one big building," the boy said, clearly frustrated.

"Oh." After that, there was an awkward silence as I fiddled with my blonde hair, unraveling the braid, then braiding it back again. Finally, as I tied my hair back with a new green hair band that I had pulled out of a skirt pocket, the boy—Spencer?—spoke.

"Hey," he said nervously. "Do you have any idea where we…are, exactly?"

I sighed. "Not a clue."

Spencer sighed and said, "At least there's some other kid besides me, even though she's a total wacko."

We started walking together through the forest, and as we walked, my frustration grew. How could we communicate if we didn't understand each other? I couldn't understand a word out of this boy's mouth. I was glad at least he understood me.

Was he really from the 21st century? I decided to ask. "Spencer," I began. His head swiveled towards me. "Are you really from the 21st century? The year 2000 and all that?"

"Yeah," he said, which I assumed meant _yes_. "The year 2008, actually. What about you? I mean, I assume you're from a different time as me, because of the way you dress and stuff. Really, when are you from?"

"I'm from the year 1949," I said.

Spencer stopped in his tracks. "Oh. My. Gosh," he said, stressing every word. "You're, like, _oh my gosh!_ You're _old_!" he shouted dramatically.

I put my hands on my hips. "By Jove, I am not old! Just because I am from a different time period does not mean that I am old. It just means that I was born before you but was from a different time period as you, which goes to show that…" from there, I was about to launch into a big scientific speech, but then when I saw Spencer, who was obviously not paying attention, I quickly shut my mouth.

We walked a little ways, then Spencer looked over to me and said, "It must be hard walking in this forest in a skirt. I thought girls in 1949 actually wore pants."

"Well," I said, thinking, "In America, I suppose they do. Not in England. Not yet, anyways."

"I feel like I should give you a pair of jeans," Spencer said, gesturing to the sack he wore on his back. "I have an extra pair. They're my sister's. She left them at the Y. The staff found 'em and they had her name on 'em. I was taking them home, then I ended up here." Spencer looked at me critically. "It looks like you'll fit in 'em. Here," he said, handing me a pair of strange rough blue pants that were made of an odd material. "try 'em on."

I stepped behind a tree, pulled off my skirt, and stuffed it into my book bag. I hadn't realized I had fallen with it still over my shoulder. I carefully snuggled into the blue pants. The rough material rubbed against my legs, and I didn't really like the feeling. But Spencer was right, it did feel a lot better to walk in pants than a skirt in the forest. I stepped out from behind the tree. "Is this right?"

"How should I know?" Spencer asked. Then he thought for a second, then said, "Yeah, it is."

"Thanks," I said, sticking my hands in the pockets experimentally. I felt the ribbons from my skirt pockets that I had transferred to the pants. I pulled out the ribbon from my hair and untangled the braid while still walking.

Unfortunately, I didn't watch where I was going, and I tripped over a log. While I tripped, something caught my eye. It was a squirrel. I was used to seeing plenty of squirrels in England, but this one really stood out. It was bigger than normal squirrels. I held out a bright blue ribbon. The squirrel took it gingerly and said, "Thank you."

At those words, I screamed. "By gum, you talk!"

"Of course I talk!" the squirrel said, its voice high-pitched. It glanced at me and Spencer and said, "A son of Adam, and a daughter of Eve in Narnia? Two children from…a different land? Who are you?"

Spencer walked forward and spoke up. "I'm Spencer Greye, and I'm thirteen." He pointed at me. "That's Heather…Browling, I think. She's twelve. We're humans, and we're from America and England."

The squirrel started in a sort of machine gun-like chatter. "Son of Adam, Daughter of Eve in Narnia! I say, I really should go tell King Rilian! Oh, and what about the Jill and the Eustace? They must hear of this coming, also. Oh, I must go…" and the squirrel started to skitter off.

"Wait!" I shouted to the squirrel.

"Yes?" it answered turning back. "Ah, silly me. Come, follow me to King Rilian. He shall be delighted to see you children. The Jill and Eustace would be, too. They are staying with Rilian at the moment. Come! You will be safe."

I glanced at Spencer, and he shrugged and followed the squirrel. I didn't know what to do. Could I trust it? I mean, squirrels weren't supposed to talk. They couldn't talk. Yet there it was, jabbering away. By Jove, I didn't know what to do. But, in the end, I followed the squirrel to a castle. It was big and beautiful.

"Welcome to Cair Paravel," the squirrel said. "Rilian _shall _be delighted!"

I looked up. "That's a jolly big castle," I said in awe.

And it was.


	3. Why are we here?

**Author's note: Hey. I was really waiting for reviews, and I'm always really disappointed when people don't review. I decided to write this chapter anyways. I like writing. ;) I enjoy it. **

**So, if anyone reads my other fanfiction, Introducing Melissa, I'm sorry to say I probably won't be updating for a while. My edition of the book Shipwreck was from the library and it was overdue. I also had reached the renewal limit. :p sorry. If anyone REALLY wants me to update it, say it in a review or send me a PM.**

**If anyone is wondering why Jill and Eustace aren't nine, but ten, well, I have them visit King Rilian an earth year after they save him from the enchantment, which I'm making equal a few years in Narnia. So I don't want to get reviews saying I have their age wrong :p. **

**Enjoy the story. :p **

Chapter 3: What are we doing here? 

Heather and Spencer were in Cair Paravel now. The squirrel, who had said his name was Pittertwip, said, "You'll love the humans. They're very kind. They're from England, too. The Jill and the Eustace."

"Oh," I said suddenly. "Jill Pole and Eustace Scrubb? We go to the same school. Of course, I know them as Scrubb and Pole."

"Friends?" Pittertwip asked.

"Not really," I said, thinking back. "More like people that if you saw at the store you would say 'Hi' to. You know, like that. By gum, this is a huge castle!" I looked at my surroundings. It was beautiful. There was a man sitting on the throne. His face was kind.

"Welcome to Cair Paravel, children. I am King Rilian. How is it that you are here?" He seemed very nice. By all means, he was much nicer than those horrible children at my school. I hated them very much. They didn't like me much.

"I'm Heather Browling," I said, "And this is Spencer Greye."

"Browling!" I heard a voice say.

"Oh, Pole, nice to see you," I said, smiling. "Scrubb, you, too." Eustace Scrubb gave a feeble wave, and Jill Pole skipped up to me and smiled.

"Oh, isn't it just lovely? Don't you love Narnia?" the bubbly ten-year-old asked.

"No!" I cried. "This place is insane!" I pointed at Pittertwip. "Animals can talk!"

"This place is freakin' weird!" Spencer agreed.

"Oh," ten-year-old Eustace said, looking over at Spencer. "Who are you? I don't think you go to Experiment House."

"I'm Spencer Greye," he said, sticking out his hand. "I'm thirteen years old. I live in America. During the 21st century."

"Really?" Eustace asked, shaking Spencer's hand. "That's quite amazing. My Science teacher says that by then, all of human civilization would be in ruins."

"Well, smart one; I'm here, aren't I?" Spencer cracked.

"That's jolly rude of you," I said to him, my expression really saying, _it's not smart to wisecrack to a ten-year-old_.

At that moment, Pittertwip excused himself. "Must look for more nuts," he explained.

"Pole," I said to Jill, watching Pittertwip scamper off, "Could you tell us more about where we are? By Jove, we might be on the moon and I wouldn't know. I'm a total donkey at geography."

"We aren't on Earth!" the ten-year-old giggled. "We're in a different world altogether! We're in _Narnia_."

"Narnia? Where's that?" I asked, running my fingers through my wavy brown hair.

"May I interrupt?"

I searched for the sign of the voice and spotted King Rilian. I nodded at him, and he continued. "Narnia is south of Archenland," he said, "Which is to the north. But in astronomical terms, I'd say maybe we're a speck floating in time and space."

"Like in Horton Hears a Who!" Spencer blurted out suddenly. "Sorry," he added.

"That's jolly confusing. Could you translate that to English?" I asked, laughing.

"It means that your world is probably a different world than ours," King Rilian said good-naturedly.

"By Jove," I said, smiling, "Why didn't you say that in the first place?"

Jill walked—no, more like jumped—over to the throne, where King Rilian was sitting. "Oh, Rilian," she said, "We _must _give them some place to stay. They cannot go back out and sleep in the forest!"

"Lady Jill," King Rilian said, his hand on his chin, thinking, "I think that is a wonderful idea. Lady Jill, could Heather stay in the room connected to yours? And Sir Eustace," he said, turning to Eustace, "Could Spencer stay in the room connected to yours? We're putting you in connected rooms," King Rilian explained, turning to me and Spencer who were standing next to each other. "Because I think it would be much better for you to have guides. More company is rather suitable for two guests who are unsure what they are doing in Narnia in the first place." I nodded, and so did Spencer.

Jill and Eustace agreed. "Come now!" Jill said, grabbing my arm. "Browling! It _shall _be so much fun!"

I smiled, and she led me to a large room. There was a beautiful window seat, and a grand bed, all red, as were the curtains. There was a door on one side of the room, not the one we came in through. "It has that door," she explained, "because it connected to it is your room." I nodded.

"Oh, dear, you are jolly dirty!" Jill said good-naturedly when she saw me in the full light. "We should set you up a bath!"

At that moment, a girl a bit taller than me walked into the room. "I have been sent by King Rilian to see to it that you were properly taken care of," she explained. I smiled. The girl had blonde hair, but it had a tint of green in it. She was graceful like a willow, and the way she walked and moved was willowy, too. Her eyes were green and kind, and I think her hair had a bit of moss in it.

She drew me a bath, and it felt simply wonderful. It had bubbles, and it smelled nice.

Afterwards, I walked out of the bathroom, a lilac-colored towel around my body, into my room. There, I put on the clothes laid out for me. They felt jolly good. They were purple and made of some sort of nice-feeling material. It felt nice when you were in them, they smelled nice and fresh, and they sounded nice when you moved. There was a dress, and a little cloak. I wrapped the cloak around my shoulders. I heard a knock on the connecting door. "Come in, Pole," I said.

Jill, Eustace, and Spencer walked in. His hair was wet, and he was also in new, clean clothes. "Oh," I said. "Hello."

"Yo," Spencer said to me.

"Yo…?" I asked.

Spencer turned away and said, "Never mind."

"What are you here for?" I asked, sitting back against the head of my bed.

"We came to talk about why you're here," Eustace said. "It seems like whenever a child comes here, there's always trouble in Narnia. At first, we didn't come just to stay. We were here because there was a bit of trouble with the giants up north, but we've got that covered now. We've just decided to stay longer—by Jove, Pole, what are you doing?"

Before that moment, Jill had been sitting at the foot of the bed. But now, I couldn't see her anywhere. I looked around until I found her. She was busy shimmying up the post of the bed. "I saw something up there!" she cried. "I did, I did!"

"Pole," I said, "It's probably nothing. By gum, get down before you hurt yourself!"

Eustace was saying, "Come on, Pole! You can get up faster than that! Go!"

"What?" I asked. "Scrubb, you can't really believe there's actually something up there! By Jove, it's probably just a spider or something. Really, Pole, get down."

But Jill just kept on trying to get up the pole to the top of the canopy. At the top, she grabbed something, then jumped down. In her hands, she clutched a cream-colored envelope that said _Spencer Greye and Heather Browling _on it in flowing and curly script. I took it from her hand and ripped open the envelope.

It said,

_Dear Spencer and Heather,_

_I have been expecting you in Narnia. I hope you didn't hurt yourself too much in your fall, Heather, and I hope you didn't hurt yourself with that music blaring in your ears at that Underoath concert, Spencer. _

At that part, Spencer blushed a bright red. The letter continued.

_Now, I know you are wondering what you are doing in Narnia. At this time, Narnia is a peaceful place._

_But not for long. Some of the Old Narnians are rebelling against me and Narnia in a whole. I need you to either convert them or destroy them. _

_The other side, the Narnians who are against me and Narnia, are teaming up with the Calormenes. They want to take over Narnia for themselves, so the Calormenes shall help them attack. _

_You will know who is on the other side by the way they act to you. It might be quite difficult, as appearances can well be deceiving._

_You may see me on your journey. Go with Jill Pole and Eustace Scrubb. They are good leaders and loyal to the bone. _

_On your journey, you shall meet both good and bad. I wish you all the luck and a safe journey. _

_To the end, _

_Aslan _

**Author's note: You know, I'm really not liking where this is going. If anyone wants me to keep going, review. Anonymous reveiws accepted. I need reveiws, or I won't continue!**


	4. How did we get here?

**Author's note: Hey. It's me again. Thanks for reviewing, even though I'd like maybe a few more reviews per chapter.**

**Anyways, I'd like to say that from now on, I'll be writing from Spencer's POV (Point of View). It's just really hard for me to write from the perspective of someone from a different country and a different time. I think it'd be easier for me to write in the point of view of someone from the same time and the same country, ya know? **

Chapter Four: How did we get here? 

Spencer's POV:

While Heather read the letter, my hands instinctively went to my pockets. Then I stupidly realized I was in my fancy Narnian clothing. I crossed my arms over my chest instead.

I looked at my surroundings, paying pretty much no attention whatsoever to the letter. It was probably not important at all anyways.

As I took in my surroundings, I spotted the boy named Eustace. I had heard his full name was Eustace Clarence Scrubb. I couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor kid. He seemed nice. I looked around a bit more, and saw Jill Pole. I felt sorry for her last name. Names like that would guarantee her more than a bit of teasing at my school. And it wasn't even that bad of a name, though I could think up some insults already.

Heh, heh. I would say one here, but it might be a bit insulting. Anyways, I looked around a bit, taking in everything about my weird new guides. They looked just like regular kids, which was fine with me. I was pretty much just sick of weird kids that really were on this earth for one sole purpose: Bugging you.

"Hullo," Eustace said, after the letter had been read. "That's interesting. Aslan bringing someone in _before _the trouble has even started. This must be big."

"Oh, I _do _wish Aslan would come," Jill said.

"Wait!" I interrupted. "Who the heck is Aslan, and what the heck are we supposed to be doing? How the heck did I freakin' get here?"

Eustace, Jill, and even Heather just stared at me blankly. I started over. "Who's Aslan, what are we supposed to be doing, and how did I get here?" I asked, jumbling everything together without using words that I didn't think people used sixty years ago. "Got it now?"

"You don't have to nag on so," Eustace complained. "Just speak English, and you'll get through."

"I _am_ speaking English, you idiot!" I shouted. I had a few more worse names running through my head at that moment. But I didn't say any of them.

"Please!" Jill intervened. "Just stop! Oh! I can't stand it when you do this, Scrubb!"

"Hey!" I shouted. "I never wanted to be here in the freakin' first place, man! Geez! I was just enjoying my Underoath concert, and I was in the mosh pit, and the guys were, like, blasting everyone's eardrums out, and I was jumping up and down, and it was freakin' awesome! Then they hit this really loud note and then—BAM! I was here. Do you think I'm happy?"

"I never said you were!" Eustace screamed back. I think he was trying to be louder. But the boy had never heard me shout.

"I hate you!" I shouted at my potential ear-busting sound. "All of you! You ruined my life!"

There was an awkward silence as I unclenched my fists, which I now just noticed were held so tightly there were now little half-moons where my fingernails had been.

It was Heather who finally broke the silence. "Well," she said, "First things first. How did we get here?"

"By _magic_, of course!" Jill said, giggling.

If I were in my typical group at school I would have teased her by calling her a giggling balloon. But I wasn't. I was here, and I was me. So I said, "What the heck?"

"It's really magic," Eustace said. "I can't explain it. It's quite complicated. And queer."

"Oh my gosh, did you just say queer?" I asked, laughing.

"I don't get it," Eustace said flatly.

"Never mind. Anyways, since I'm in a better mood now, I'll ask my question. Who's Aslan?"

"Oh, Aslan. Well…I think it would be better not to tell you. I think he'd want you to figure out for himself," Jill explained.

"Wait!" Heather shouted. "You mean you're not telling us? How could you? We don't even know what we're supposed to do!"

Gosh, I wish Heather weren't so Mary Sue-ish all the time. It really got on my nerves.

Eustace thought for a bit, then grinned impishly and said, "Nope!"

I gave him a glare that said, _I am going to kill you. _

He just grinned some more.

"Eustace," Jill said, "Don't be such a donkey. You can at least tell them who the Calormenes are."

Eustace grinned. "Oh, fine. I don't see why you have to be so stubborn about it." But I think he said it in a friendly way. "Let me see. The Calormenes are a people who live in the country of Calormene. They are a somewhat violent people. It's depressing, really. They're dark-skinned, and they follow the Tisroc. And whenever they say the word Tisroc, they follow it up with 'may-he-live-forever'. So, yes, they could be categorized as strange."

"Great," I said sarcastically. "So what do we do? Wait around for the war to start, then grab a crossbow or whatever you use and start shooting at random darkies?"

"No," Jill said suddenly, after a long silence. "We go directly to the source and solve the problems."

"Here we go," I said. "Next stop, Calormene."

**Author's note: I'm sorry to say I really hate this right now. It doesn't sound like me, if you know what I'm saying. And lovers of the term "By Jove," sorry I disappointed you. But this chapter, I think, turned out a bit better than the last one. If anyone thinks this is as good as I think it's bad, review and tell me so. :) **

**Sorry for the whole "Queer" thing. I had to put it in, you know?**

**I'm waiting for reviews. I think I'll take three to keep going. I'll wait. Anonymous reviews accepted. Remember, only three reviews. **


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